


Queer & Insane

by Tale5



Category: Yandere Simulator (Video Game)
Genre: Asthma, But please, Canon Saki is boring so I did what I had to do, Canon-Typical Violence, Delusions, Don't expect me to hold canon at all sacred, F/F, Faked Suicide, Gay Male Character, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, I use Saki and Kokona's new names, Murder Mystery, Mystery with a capital M, Obsession, Out of Character, Post-Osana Elimination, Steganography, Swearing, Underage - Freeform, Yandere, bone disease?, the game failed mostly in that it wasn't queer enough
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28431120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tale5/pseuds/Tale5
Summary: Saki Mayuzumi doesn't know what it is she wants from life—and that's served her just fine for the most part. She has Kokona (even if they have an unresolved past, and things between them are starting to feel...different). She has the cooking club (although the reintroduction of the real club leader feels like it's changing everything). And something's not quite right in the air—which Saki could likely attribute to the suicide of Osana Najimi a couple weeks ago, though something seems to be up even withthat,and she might not be the only one suspecting foul play.Things start to go very wrong. Chaos ensues. And is it just her, or is her best friend looking at her weird?[OR: Yandere Simulator if it had a murder mystery plot and that murder mystery plot were a sapphic horror story and I call all the shots.]
Relationships: Hanako Yamada & Taro Yamada | Senpai, Kokona Haruka & Saki Miyu, Kokona Haruka/Saki Miyu, Past Osana Najimi & Taro Yamada | Senpai, Saki Miyu & Otohiko Meichi, Saki Miyu & Shoku Tsuburaya, Taro Yamada | Senpai & Amai Odayaka
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm here!
> 
> This is my first fic, so god have mercy. I posted a couple chapters about 6 months ago but took them down to rework the story, so this is going to be very different. You've been warned. I've been having fun lol
> 
> I'll start this off by saying I'm going to try to stick mostly to canon, but I'm taking _a lot_ of liberties. It's going to show, so, hope you guys are okay with that.
> 
> I will also say that for the sake of my sanity I edited literally the entire premise of the game so that each elimination happens every _month_ as opposed to every week. _Have mercy_. This first chapter takes place the evening of May 3rd and the school day of May 4th 2020 in the anime universe or wherever the hell they are
> 
> Another note regarding the warnings: I chose not to include archive warnings in this fic, mostly because some of the lines are blurred in the story and I don't want to include a warning that doesn't apply or exclude one that might have been needed. So I'm using the good ol' "catch-all". For one, major character death, while not actually super prevalent in the work, is going to be a major theme in this story. The characters are _all_ underage, since I'm going based on where their classrooms are located in the school, meaning the oldest characters are 17 and the youngest, including Saki and Kokona, are 15. I don't think the underage warning applies since there is no sexual content, but enjo-kosai and selling underwear could be considered "sexual practices" so that's an example of a blurred line. Graphic depictions of violence might apply since there _will_ be violence in this story—though I don't know how graphic—but that's mostly implied since this is a Yandere Simulator fic. Instead I opted to not use warnings and instead just tagged everything like normal, I hope that's okay but I'm new so I'll take suggestions!
> 
> Please know that, while I love to be fun and funny in my writing and the characters will have good times and joke around, this is going to be a pretty dark story. Read the tags and make sure you know what you’re okay with.
> 
> Some last notes are that characters will be calling each other by their surnames until they get to know each other, so sorry for any confusion. This chapter is probably going to be longer than others since there's also a prologue smushed in there. This is the result of me indulging a younger version of me who yearned for queer content. I love convoluted stories! And finally, listen to "rises the moon" by Liana Flores.

**Prologue**

\- 

Someone had opened the door.

Taro tried not to let it bother him at first. This late at night, and this dark out, he couldn’t afford to. But several minutes later, when the porch light automatically turned off, it began eating away at him. It could have been some sort of prank, or a wrong address, or something—and yet the lock was turned, the door swinging out of its frame when he’d found it, like someone had tried to close it but didn’t quite get the job done. And Taro hated the realization that set in: Someone could be in the house with him. 

Rather than continuing to stand in the entryway and fret, Taro resorted to the dimly lit warmth of the kitchen to fix himself some tea. His pulse calmed a little upon seeing the dishes in the sink—evidence of familiar life in the uncomfortable quiet of the house. Of course his and his sister’s parents had to be out that night, and of course the first thing that Taro did was harbor paranoia of a break-in. It was typical of him, he thought, exasperated, that this was his reaction promptly to being left alone.

Nothing of the sort had ever actually happened in his home—break-ins, that is. To think that someone could have seen his parents’ car missing from the driveway, that they’d chosen this time to strike...no. No, that was just cynical. Taro frowned as he put on the kettle. He and Hanako had been home all evening. Any robber would know that. He hoped.

Taro turned his gaze to the kettle sitting on the burner. He wondered briefly whether Hanako would like some tea, too, but dismissed the thought when he realized his younger sister should probably be asleep by now. Wait—what time was it? Taro glanced up at the clock at the other end of the room: 11:50 pm. He wasn’t even supposed to be awake, and yet here he was. Making tea. He groaned softly. His sleep habits were an enigma of their own.

The kettle began to whistle, and it was as Taro was rushing to tend to it when he heard it.

_CRASH_

The sound echoed from the far back of the house, almost perfectly timed to Taro lifting the kettle, which had now fallen back onto the stovetop with a twin bang. The darkness of the house was suddenly more than darkness, because Taro could swear _there was something in it now._ The sounds of footsteps were ringing in his ears and he tried with a clenched jaw to discern where they were coming from, only for him to realize a couple seconds later that it was only his own heartbeat.

The house wasn’t silent anymore. It was creaking. He could hear it settling, surrounded by a background static, the things around him refusing to sit still. And perhaps it was stupid, but Taro didn’t want to be the only thing not moving.

It happened in quick successive motions. He moved into the living room, scoured for a flashlight, and, once he’d found it, made his way down the hallway. He flung the back door open in a harsh motion, almost disappointed to not see anything in the small expanse of the backyard. It took him a couple seconds to process the patter of rain on the grass, surprised he hadn’t heard it before—It sounded so loud out here. Taro shivered and his grip tightened around the flashlight, thankful for the small covering he got in the doorway. He swallowed and aimed the light all over the yard, expecting to find something out of the ordinary. But with every passing second, every bush shivering in the rain or misplaced garden tool he aimed the quivering beam of light at, he felt like he was being made a fool of.

He let the hand holding the flashlight fall to his side, getting ready to go back and forget he’d panicked like this.

“Taro?”

Taro spun around and shined the light directly in the face of the person who’d intruded on him—only to find Hanako, who was now recoiling in the bright beam of light.

In a rush, Taro fumbled to turn off the flashlight. When it clicked off, the scene was dark, and his little sister’s shape was hunched over in the hallway, looking small. He tripped over his words as they came out. “Hana—Hanako? What are you doing here?”

The motion must have triggered the back porch light sensor, because suddenly it turned on and the light was just enough to make out Hanako’s face from the shadows and—

Shit, was she crying?

Taro liked to think he knew his sister well. He knew the things that distressed her or, yes, made her cry. But this wasn’t ordinary, and Taro was almost certain he hadn’t been the one to push her to tears by frightening her. In fact, from the shininess of her cheeks and the red pinkness of her face, it looked like she’d been crying for a while.

“Hanako...are you okay?”

Hanako gulped audibly and continued to stare up at Taro with wide, wide eyes. “I—” she choked out before stopping and heaving a wet breath.

Taro bent down a little lower to meet her stature and asked again, more steady this time: “Hanako, are you okay?”

“I-I-I’m so sorry,” she finally managed to choke out before crying again.

“Sorry about what?”

Hanako wiped her cheeks with the heels of her palms, but it just seemed to spread around the tears more. She didn’t say anything for a while. Taro knew better than to push her—but he was at a loss when it came to what he should do. He could have brushed it off as a response to scaring her by being out there so late at night, or by shining the light in her face, or even just the rain, but he knew it wasn’t any of these things. Hanako’s distress was coming from something else completely.

Taro was going to ask again, but Hanako was pointing somewhere behind him. He turned quickly, desperate to follow her line of sight, though not sure what she could be pointing at. Sure enough...darkness, accented only by rain. He slowly turned to look back at Hanako when he heard the noise again: a deafening crash that seemed to shake the ground—only this time it was matched by a bright flash of white light that illuminated the hallway. _The thunder, and the lightning._

He looked at Hanako, ready to assure her of his understanding, and it was when his eyes met hers that he realized…

_Me._

_She’s pointing at me._

_**Why is she pointing at me?** _

Hanako suddenly took on an apologetic look—maybe a little ashamed, like a puppy with its ears pulled flat and its tail tucked between its legs. Only the puppy was a fifteen-year-old girl, dark hair mussed like she hadn’t brushed it before she’d come downstairs to see her older brother in mania.

God, he must have looked pretty silly.

“Taro…” Hanako held her expression. There was something comforting in her genuineness, and for some reason Taro suddenly felt every inch of himself take on a kind of heaviness. Hanako got up very slowly, making a beckoning motion for him to come inside. Taro spared one last glance at the yard, though it was too dark to see anything anymore, and he stepped forward, closing the door behind him as he did so.

When Hanako stepped aside to let him down the hall, he pretended not to notice her quietly go back to the door and close it.

_...Wait._

He—

_Taro hadn’t closed the door?_

He didn’t realize he’d stopped in the middle of the hallway until he felt Hanako poke him firmly on the back, breaking him out of his thoughts. And then Taro heard small tapping, the rain on the roof beginning to sound louder and more distinct.

“...Do you want to have tea?”

. . . 

Taro sat at the kitchen table, trying not to look at Hanako but facing her anyway because if he didn’t he might go mad. He noted that the light in the kitchen had turned off—likely a power outage—but Hanako probably had the good sense not to even try turning the lights on anyway, instead resorting to bringing an electric candle from the living room. Taro listened to the crinkling sound as Hanako picked up the tea package he’d gotten out. She let out a long sigh.

“ _Earl grey?_ ”

“I would have gotten green if I knew you’d be joining me.”

“I don’t like green tea, either.”

Taro wanted to retort back that Hanako didn’t like anything, but decided against it. Instead she sat down across from him, having not poured herself any tea, and forced Taro’s gaze back towards her again.

They were both quiet for a long time, just listening to the occasional rumble of what Taro now guessed was _thunder_ — _God, I’m an idiot._ The silence was enough to eventually hear the soft pattering of rain on the roof, a potent static. He supposed that was what he’d heard in the darkness of the kitchen earlier. Taro’s cup was too hot to touch, so instead he resorted to spinning it by its rim. Taro almost thought neither one of them was going to break the silence as he fiddled endlessly with his cup, until Hanako finally spoke.

“Did you hear the rain start?”

 _No._ “Yes.”

Hanako either didn’t notice Taro’s stiffness, or chose to ignore it. “What does it sound like?”

Just a few weeks ago Taro would have been baffled by the question, but for whatever reason he found himself responding with little thought to the words. “Television static.”

Hanako gave him a funny look bordering on incredulous, but appeared to quickly take it back. “Fire pit,” she answered her own question. “Bird chirps.”

Taro tried to bob his head in a nod, but he wasn’t sure it communicated, so he just held his cup up against his lips.

“You always slept through rain,” Hanako said. “Doesn’t it cause melatonin spikes?”

“Melatonin…” Taro echoed absently.

“You sleep.”

“I know.”

“But you don’t sleep.”

Taro looked back up at Hanako, who wasn’t looking at him anymore.

“You didn’t sleep,” she corrected herself. Or maybe she was just adding on.

The cup was cooling in Taro’s hands. “No, I didn’t.” Not tonight.

“I didn’t either.”

There was something haunting in the way Hanako said it. Rain kept Hanako up all night sometimes. She must have heard it long before he had. _Fire pit, bird chirps._ He wondered if those were sounds she liked. Or if they were just the sounds that kept her awake.

“Hanako,” Taro began, but didn’t quite know what else he wanted to say.

"What?"

He felt a yawn pull at his jaw and his whole body shivered. The rain sounded heavy above them. Still TV static. “I’m tired.”

“You probably are.” And it was the first time Taro noticed her eyes looked heavy, half-lidded. He can’t see the redness anymore, and if she’d been crying, well…now she just looked tired herself. But Taro wanted to tell Hanako he wasn’t tired like that. He was tired in a way that felt like a ghost was inhabiting his body, doing things for him. Tired like he could see the same with his eyes opened as closed. Tired like the TV static rain was slowly turning into death knells.

Instead he just said, “I should probably sleep,” which was true anyway. True as it could get.

“Go to bed, Taro.” Taro’s eyes finally met Hanako’s once more, and she was looking at him like she _knew_. He stood up abruptly and walked until he was up the stairs and standing in front of the door to his room, not even bothering to think about how he was leaving Hanako there. Because anyone who _knew_ was seeing too much of him.

And now he was standing with his hand on the door handle, not even sure he was willing to open it anymore, but he wasn’t going to go downstairs, and he wasn’t going to remain standing in the hallway. He felt his hand clamming up the longer he stood there, and there were two pressures in his brain. One of them loud, distinct. It was a thought, and it read, _“You didn’t save her.”_

It was enough to push him to open the door and finally step inside his room, but not enough to move anymore or to even turn and close the door. The other thought was still there.

Slowly, Taro glanced back, in case there was a shadow he’d missed. His eyes pulled out everything in the dark twice in the off chance it could be a figure.

But no one was there.

It became quiet enough in his mind for the buzzing in there to finally clear into a silent echo: _Osana._

He closed the door. He checked it, wiggled the handle. He unlocked it, relocked it. Three times. Five times. Twelve times. Until he was sure: _That door is closed._

He let himself turn around.

He let the echo die.

\- 

**Chapter 1**

\- 

“I really want to punch you in the face right now.” Saki bit the inside of her cheek. Okay, it was true that she wanted to punch _someone_ , probably anyone, but not Kokona. It was hard for Saki to imagine getting rough with her best friend at all, weird considering she hadn’t been shy to engage in horseplay as a little kid. It must have been a sign of growing up, she thought.

“Please don’t, I spent half an hour on my makeup this morning.” Kokona’s reply was unbothered...maybe a bit amused?

“Then I’ll be careful.”

"No."

" _Exceedingly gentle._ "

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’.

Saki pouted, to which Kokona’s only response was to pat her lightly on the cheek as the two walked side by side.

It’d been four days ago that the school had issued Saki’s suspension, and it’d had her pissed off—if not a little anxious. Her parents weren’t exactly thrilled either, though that wasn’t to say Saki was the most model student. Just that selling her underwear would be a new addition to her list of offenses. Maybe the school had thought she would spend the time reflecting and have changed her ways by Monday. Or maybe they just didn’t give a shit. Either way, unfortunately for them, Saki held grudges.

“You’re doing that thing with your face, Saki.” Saki looked over to see Kokona frowning, eyebrows furrowed. A trademark look on Kokona.

“Well,” Saki stretched her arms out in front of her in an effort to appear relaxed as she and Kokona neared the school’s entrance, “what do you want me to do about it?”

“Don’t? Make the face. Or punch people.” Kokona sighed and twirled one of her twin drills with her finger. “But really though, it’s your first day back. Now’s not a great day to be getting into any trouble. And rumors haven’t exactly been all that...apologetic, either.”

“I don’t plan on getting expelled, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Saki knew that wasn’t what Kokona was talking about, given from the way she seemed to tense up next to her, but neither one of them commented on it. Saki was honestly less worried about a suspension right now and more worried about Kokona. In the end, Saki could tough it out—She could have done without the suspension, though.

Saki had known what this was about as soon as Kokona had mentioned rumors, really. For almost three days last week Saki had been absent, and of course what Kokona had done was listen to what other people had to say about it. Where Saki went, Kokona went; and where Kokona went, Saki went. That everyone knew. It was an automatic association. Saki ignored the twinge of guilt rising out of her at the thought. _It’s not a negative association._ It could be better, though.

“If you say so. Just don’t be dumb, _you_.” Kokona flicked Saki on the forehead, snapping her back into the present and receiving a small _"hey!"_ as they each headed in the directions of their respective lockers. Kokona turned to look back at Saki. “Still having me over after school?”

 _“With that behavior?”_ Saki wanted to say, but instead she returned, “Yep.” Seeing Kokona smile and turn to leave melted away some of the lingering tension in Saki’s chest. _It could be better, though._

. . . 

Saki wasn’t sweet. She liked to think that she was nice—considerate, even—but sometimes being nice involved letting people know they were assholes. In which case the word “sweet” hardly applied.

“If there’s one person keen on getting dirt on people, it’s _you_.” Saki tried her best attempt at _hounding,_ or whatever tone of voice was supposed to be used in situations like these. She couldn’t say that she felt completely comfortable in confrontations. They made her feel tiny, like she was wading in deep waters, a place she shouldn’t be—but that only seemed to get her more worked up. “Tell me. Why Kokona?” _And yet confrontation or not, it’s too early to be in the school plaza talking to this supreme asshole._

“You’re crazy.” Musume Ronshaku. A prime specimen. “And probably a queer.”

“Just a question, is all.” Saki stood her ground and looked Musume in the eye. It wasn’t that showing confidence ever really prevented Musume from being a terrible person to you, but it at least helped keep some of your dignity.

Musume flashed a belittling smile. “Wow, you’re secretly a flatout _bitch_ , aren’t you, sweetheart?” Her tone alone was bitter, shrill, and it made Saki involuntarily shudder for a moment. _I can smell the cigarettes on her breath._ “And I don’t have an answer. If it really mattered to _twin-drills_ then she’d be here herself, instead of having her little lackey doing all these things for her.” Her gaze fell back to her phone screen, which had to have been some sort of intentional power move. People like Musume got their kicks from doing that sort of thing.

“Then I’ll just ask you, if you’re not the one spreading rumors...who would it be?” Saki hoped it wasn’t pushing too much, but it was at least worth a shot. “And what do they have against Kokona?”

Musume pursed her lips, not bothering to look up. “Look, sweetie, as nice as it is that you seem to think so highly of me, I’m not an encyclopedia. I don’t know every little word that finds its way around or whose mouth it’s coming from. Besides, I don’t think that’s your problem.” The smile was back.

Saki shot a dark look at Musume—She wasn’t in the mood to be decoding messages. “And here I thought I was onto something.” She turned to walk away but stopped when she felt a tug at one of her pigtails and looked back to see a lock of her hair grasped between two of Musume’s perfectly manicured fingers.

“I’m _saying_ it’s no secret that your ‘rumor’ problem isn’t a ‘rumor’ problem at all. Nip it at the bud.” Saki wasn’t looking at Musume’s face but the smugness was evident in her tone, lit up and sizzling. “Ditch her.”

Saki knew what Musume was talking about, and then she hated that she knew. There was a special tone of contempt every person had for Kokona Harukawa, and Saki could only suppose that this was Musume’s. People liked to talk and forget. People liked to talk about Kokona and forget. Saki should know—She used to be _people_.

 _The only difference,_ Saki let her gaze fall to her feet as the thought crossed her mind, _is that I don’t forget._ “Have a nice day, Ronshaku.” She turned to walk away, ignoring the small scoff Musume let out behind her. _“Whatever, Mayuzumi.”_

 _Kokona._ Now Saki was considering checking up on her, despite morning club meetings currently being in session—She’d done similar things before—but dispelled the thought as soon as it came. Saki was fresh out of a suspension. Kokona...could really do without that kind of company right now. Besides, Saki had to get back to the cooking club. Shoku was probably getting impatient, and it wouldn’t be in Saki’s best interest to piss off a club leader, too.

Against her better judgement, Saki remained in the plaza for a little while longer. _Well, Shoku’s not going to be happy about this._ She closed her eyes and took the time to inhale the fresh air and wonder. Saki supposed she could come off as a bit domineering with her desperate defenses for Kokona. But the alternative, just turning a blind eye, sent shivers down her spine. Saki touched the friendship bracelet on her right wrist. She used to be that kind of person. Now just the thought of it made her sick.

 _A’ight...but I really said I was going to get parchment paper._ Suddenly realizing her conspicuousness just sitting out in the plaza, Saki finally urged herself up. She didn’t have a watch on her, but she was beginning to get the feeling that she was probably taking far more time than it would feasibly take for her to get to the closet where extra supplies were kept. As she thought it, Saki fumbled with her bag for a second only to freeze up when she couldn’t feel anything under the canvas.

_Shit. I forgot to make the parchment paper trip._

The route to the closet was supposed to be a quick one, only a turn of the corner from the kitchen. In her single-minded rush to make it to Musume in the plaza (who, honestly, probably didn’t have anywhere else to be) Saki had neglected the task she had in the first place. She shook it off briskly. There were more important things than parchment paper… She comforted herself with this thought, indulging herself in looking around the school hallway as she walked, which did help to make her feel a bit more grounded in reality. She noted someone’s missing bag, who was no doubt in for a shock later once they realized, if they hadn’t already. Some of the posters on the wall over here were flaking, having been up for so long, and she wondered who’d put them up.

Saki’s train of thought derailed at the sight of the hall closet.

More correctly, the student _in_ the hall closet.

“Shit, should I be calling an ambulance?” The words escaped Saki’s mouth before she could even fully process what was happening. A student was lying on the floor in front of her, and she now noticed that he was hardly propping himself up—and he was a boy, which wouldn’t have mattered except that Saki would have guessed without the school uniform that he was a girl, with soft pink hair reaching his shoulders and...he was just too _small_ for a boy—or, she supposed, too small for any _healthy_ boy his age.

Saki didn’t hear an immediate response and approached the student, slowly lowering herself to be crouching over him. Seeing him collapsed there, Saki couldn’t help but think grimly that the only thing missing from the scene was a puddle of blood and a knife protruding from his back.

So it was a shock to her when, as she put her hands on him to lightly shake him, he suddenly let out a loud cough, followed by a clearly obstructed, gasping breath. In the same motion he’d turned around, not quite all the way but enough for Saki to see his face, and he was staring at her, with one hand on his throat like he was...choking...

_Right, an ambulance._

As if he was processing her presence there right now, the boy’s eyes widened and he jerked his head, appearing to mouth a ‘NO’.

Which really sent Saki for a loop. “ _DON’T call an ambulance?!_ ”

The boy instantly took on an unimpressed look, and that’s how Saki realized he was kind of uncharacteristically dark in the eyes. His breathing was much more even than before, but the heaving of his chest still looked labored. “My bag…” He glanced around, and Saki, not really knowing _what_ she should be doing, did the same. “ _Where is my bag?_ ”

“I-I don’t know!” Saki felt the franticness beginning to tinge her voice. “I haven’t seen a—”

_I’ve seen a bag._

Saki’s mind quickly flashed to the bag in the hallway. _There was a bag in the hallway, right?_ The boy was beginning to look at her quizzically, but Saki was already stuttering out the words, _“Um, I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back in a second,”_ hardly registering the way he was beginning to stand up before she was running back out into the hallway. Thankfully the bag was right where she’d remembered it being. Saki snatched it up and headed back to the hall closet.

She almost ran right into him as she neared the entryway. _Jeez, I said I’d be back in a second._

“Here, your bag.” Saki was about halfway through holding it out towards him when the boy grabbed it desperately, which Saki supposed she couldn’t blame him for. Then, strangely enough, he quickly ducked back into the hall closet. He looked inexplicably like some kind of hoarding animal as he did so. _Squirrel,_ Saki thought. _No. Raccoon._

She stood there for a moment in the strangely quiet hallway. Saki inexplicably felt like someone was supposed to be coming through the door just down the hall any second now, or turn the corner and find her in a sort of half-trance. No one did, though, and it was just her there alone. So she eyed the entry to the hall closet again.

Well, should she check on him?

Actually stepping into the hall closet revealed to Saki just how dusty it was in there, so much so that she herself had to hold back a cough. _Shit, I might have choked too._ The boy was sitting on the floor in a criss-cross position, aggressively digging through his bag, and didn’t show the slightest sign of acknowledgement towards Saki as she entered. Slowly, she brought herself to kneeling on the ground across from him and watching him find whatever he was looking for in the bag.

Saki expected an inhaler or an epi-pen, hell, even just some magic medicine or pills or whatever things sick people needed to take to...well, fix them. Instead of any of those things, the boy’s hand came out clutching a water bottle, which was kind of strangely anticlimactic, if Saki was to be frank. She found herself wondering if that was actually regular water in there, or maybe some kind of medical solution.

The boy unscrewed the cap and Saki watched as he gulped down water (...fluid?) like he was parched, brief gasps escaping his throat sometimes, like it was hard to get it down.

“Is there…” she started, but the boy broke into another fit of coughs. This time louder, like, whoa, was there phlegm in there or something? She eyed the water bottle again and waited for his symptoms to calm down before starting over. “Is there something in that?” Saki gestured to the water bottle, which only may have contained water.

“Yeah,” the boy finally answered, voice gruff. He cleared his throat before continuing, holding up the bottle. “Water.”

“Oh.” So that’s really all it was then. “Does that...help?” It sounded like this boy needed a ventilator more than some water.

He didn’t answer immediately, since he’d returned to drinking out of the bottle, getting the last drops before setting it down—empty this time—with a content sigh. “...Yeah,” he echoed.

“...Yeah?” Saki returned, copying the boy’s apparent curtness.

He hummed in acknowledgement, and in more of a mumble than anything, “Magic for the airways.”

Saki thought that was a kind of funny, albeit vague, response. As soon as she thought it, she saw the boy lurch over and cough again. Saki frowned. Maybe not so magic. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Uh, probably.” Saki noted how the roughness returned to his voice.

Finally, she couldn’t help but ask him. “Do you have asthma? Is there an inhaler you could use?”

Saki didn’t miss the sudden stiffness to the boy’s demeanor. “I usually do,” he finally answered with some trepidation in his voice, pausing for a bit, like it required a lot of preparation to say. “Asthma’s a big word for it…”

“But you _do_ have it?” Saki pushed.

The boy looked like he was thinking, through small labored huffs of breath that shook his body. “...Yeah, I do.”

Saki looked at him for a long moment, probably more intensely than was appropriate, considering she’d met the guy a couple minutes ago and didn’t even know his _name_. It was now that Saki acknowledged her own rabbit heartbeat coming to a slow. She didn’t know herself to get anxious often. She supposed watching someone nearly die can do that to you—which brought on the unpleasant thought that this guy could have died out here in a dusty hall closet. It wasn’t a nice way to go.

The boy seemed almost comfortable in the silence, not paying any mind to Saki being there, really—that is, until Saki stood up abruptly. “I’m going to go get the nurse.”

At this his eyes went wide like before, which brought on the heartbeat again, some kind of prey instinct even though it was just a high school kid looking at her all strung out. “ _NO!_ No, don’t do that.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because.” And now he really sounded shaky, was starting to _look_ shaky. “You don’t need to know.”

Saki, standing in the doorway, wasn’t really sure if this was her cue to leave. She still felt a sense of obligation to this stranger. “Want to come out of the closet at least? Air is better out here.”

He looked to be considering it, but the entire moment was interrupted when Saki heard clicking footsteps down the hallway, quickly followed by a mature but distinctly feminine voice Saki could swear she recognized. “Excuse me, miss?”

Saki turned to look at the new speaker, and found herself vaguely surprised to see the school nurse, of all people. She still didn’t know all of the staff’s names at this school, and this one she couldn’t say rang a bell. “Yes? Uh—Ma’am?”

“A male student wouldn’t happen to be in there right now…?” The nurse gestured to the hall closet, where Saki couldn’t quite bring herself to look.

“Um…” Saki thought about the asthma attack, and then she thought about the look on the boy’s face when she’d mentioned the nurse.

She didn’t have time to say anything before the nurse was already peering around Saki into the closet. “Ah, Meichi. I was wondering what was taking you so long.”

 _Meichi?_ Saki turned to see the boy had stood up at some point. As she finally bothered to take him in this time, turns out he was not quite as small in stature as she’d predicted, but certainly somewhere below average height for a guy. It felt like she was intruding on some private conversation when the nurse started talking to the boy—Otohiko Meichi, Saki could now glean from overheard bits and pieces. It took her too long to finally say it.

“Meichi doesn't have his inhaler.”

The nurse—Saki had only been able to pick up “Kankoshi” in the short span of time—stiffened, though not in the way Otohiko had earlier, all shaky and trembling, but rather by taking a small but sudden breath, followed by the way she turned her head to look at Saki. “I’m sorry? Did something happen that called for the use of an inhaler?” She had this look on her face that said, _tell me more,_ which Saki didn’t really want to, but...well...

The look of trepidation returned to Otohiko’s face, but Saki was too far to walk away now. Besides, it was probably for his own good—Things like that weren’t supposed to be secret. “He was having an asthma attack.”

The nurse—Ms. Kankoshi—let out a slight _“ah”_ and turned to look back at Otohiko, who was just frozen, trying and failing to hide a deer-in-headlights expression. “I see. I'll handle this. Trust I’ll see to it that Meichi is taken care of.” Okay, now that sounded vaguely threatening for helping someone with an asthma attack. “You should be headed to class, young miss. I think most clubs have already packed up.”

Shit. _Shit!_ Now Shoku was _really_ going to be mad. Okay, not mad, since he didn’t really do that, but most certainly a bit pissy. She quickly bid Ms. Kankoshi and Otohiko farewell (though she wasn’t even sure that either were paying any attention to her) and exited to the hallway. Saki could now see all the people that had been missing from the previous scene, and she quickened her pace to hopefully make it to Shoku before he left for class.

Saki (finally) entered the kitchen, quickly scanning the scene and thankfully, _thankfully_ seeing Shoku Tsuburaya. The club leader didn’t seem to be in too much of a rush, though Saki knew he had to be leaving soon to make it to his classroom on the third floor. Saki couldn’t imagine what it was like to be a third-year at this school.

As soon as she thought it, her eyes met Shoku’s, and the club leader quickly led her to the unoccupied side of the kitchen.

“Saki, where _were_ you?”

 _Alright, Saki, and here’s where you give him your impeccable explanation._ She cleared her throat and hoped her voice didn’t sound like she was actively having an anxiety attack as she spoke. “I told you earlier, I was going to go get parchment paper.” _He knows that, dumbass!_

“Yeah…” Shoku gave her a gently inquiring look, somehow managing to hold that and the strict cooking club leader persona all at the same time. “We don’t need it. I sent Ajia out to get some since you were taking so long.”

Saki felt vaguely offended by this. She ignored the implication that this meant Ajia must have gotten to the closet before Saki had. She glanced over at Ajia, who looked to be actively trying to ignore Saki. Saki would have deemed it rude if she didn't know the mild-mannered girl better, who was probably just embarrassed to be called out. It couldn't have been that long since Saki left, though. “But I—” She cut herself off as she felt at her bag.

“Aaand, she forgot the parchment paper,” Seiyo sang out. Saki shot him a look, which he blatantly ignored.

“Well,” she continued, trying at the hope that she could still salvage her dignity, “You can't expect me to be superhuman. I had to talk to Musume first, and—”

“Wait, what’s this about Musume?” Shoku’s brow furrowed, which Saki rolled her eyes at, since it made him look like a disappointed father. “Are you telling me that the _someone_ you needed to have a chat with was Musume Ronshaku?”

Saki could swear she heard someone scoff somewhere across the room, but she brushed it off. “And I also had an encounter with an asthmatic. Cut me a bit of slack.”

Shoku’s eyes went softer, if that was even possible. “I…” He looked to be retracting what he was about to say before he said it. “I won’t ask. It’s just...You’re just usually better than this.”

 _Am I, though?_ “I said I was sorry.”

“You...really didn’t.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry.”

Shoku sighed, and he appeared to drop the club leader act a little, which was relieving—As much as he tried, strictness wasn’t a great look on him. Shoku made such a big deal out of it, but Saki liked to joke about how strained it made him all the time. He looked at her and smiled without smiling, if that was a thing people could do. “It’s fine. Just plan better next time.”

Saki returned with her own smile. “Yep, not a problem.”

“But, apologies and...parchment paper aside, we’ve already finished up. I think Kenko already went off to class.”

“Oh. Yeah. For sure.” Saki nodded, realizing this was probably Shoku’s overly-nice way of saying it was about time for both of them to leave.

It took her by surprise to feel him touch her shoulder as if to stop her. “Saki, wait…” She turned to look at him more directly, and he retracted a little. The authoritativeness was completely gone from his voice now. “I know you weren’t here for some of last week...are you okay?”

And Saki realized she’d almost forgotten—She hadn’t really, of course, but for a little while she was living in a world without her suspension.

Saki made brief eye contact with Shoku. “Yes.”

Shoku looked taken aback by Saki’s frigidity, and for a moment Saki felt guilty for it. She backed up a little and tried her best to soften her expression to match Shoku’s. “See you at lunch?”

He looked at her a little longer than necessary, and his reply came out as though he’d just been shaken back into reality. “Of course. Lunch.”

Saki realized they were now the only ones left in the kitchen—Everyone else had left. But instead she just found this kind of funny. Usually at least Ajia would have said goodbye. Maybe Saki just hadn’t heard it.

Saki tried to flash Shoku a sweet smile, which Shoku just returned with another curious look, before she turned and headed back out into the hall.

. . . 

Saki could take comfort in one thing, and that was that the school day ended mostly in the way it’d begun. Sure as the sun rises and sets, Saki always had her best friend to hold both parts of the day together. She stepped out of the school building to find Kokona there waiting for her.

Saki could feel every day how spring was slowly intensifying, which was good to Saki, since it meant that summer would be approaching. Saki had never met anyone whose favorite season was summer for the weather, but that was why she liked it. Saki could never really get enough of warmth. Kokona’s favorite season was spring, which Saki couldn’t completely grasp. The best part about spring, in her opinion, was the anticipation of summer.

Kokona must have been having a similar train of thought when she turned to speak to Saki as they walked. “It’s getting a lot warmer.” She looked at Saki with a hint of mirth in her eyes. “What are your thoughts on an early summer?”

Saki let out a happy sound. “Means more ice cream earlier.” May was usually plenty warm enough for ice cream, but it was about the principle.

Kokona nodded, a smile forming on her face. “And cicadas.”

Saki at first wanted to shoot back with a reply, _"Cicadas are_ good, _idiot,"_ but another thought soon came to mind. “But the beach,” Saki gasped. “Hasn’t it been ages since we’ve gone to the beach?”

Kokona appeared to take on a wistful look as she thought for a moment. She finally replied in a whisper, “ _It really has, hasn’t it?_ ”

Saki could feel the excitement growing on her face, which Kokona saw and responded with her own exasperated (albeit fond) expression. “Then I know what we’re doing come June," Saki teased.

“June? That’s ages away.”

“Hardly.” Saki shrugged. “I think the cooking club is having a bake sale towards then. Last week of May, at least. It’ll be perfect.”

“If the beach is busy, I’m afraid I won’t be able to forgive you.” Kokona’s face went all unbearably sad and she placed a delicate hand on her chest, like the heart there was aching, to which Saki just wrinkled her nose. _Fucking theater kids._

Kokona let out a laugh as though she’d heard the thought in Saki’s head, before going quiet again. Saki was taken slightly aback when she realized her friend was slowing to a stop on the sidewalk. The intersection where they’d cross to get to Saki’s house was just up ahead, and Saki was still processing what was happening when…

“Saki, if I may ask…” Saki turned to face Kokona, and found more strangeness as she saw the look on her best friend’s face, not quite matching the disquiet apparent in her voice. She looked serene, maybe, but even that didn’t feel like the correct word for it.

“...Kokona?” Saki finally said after the other girl didn’t speak. She felt the inexplicable return of the rabbit heartbeat—the _prey_ instinct— which made no sense at all, but…

Kokona pursed her lips and stepped forward swiftly, taking Saki’s arm in hers and continuing down the street at a pace that felt quicker than before, but it might have just been her imagination. Saki found it impossible to ignore the strong tingling sensation in her arm as Kokona did this. She was at least grateful for the lack of cars in the street—though she almost didn’t notice when Kokona spoke.

“Why can’t we go to the beach sooner?” It made even _less_ sense, but for some reason it sounded like Kokona was physically biting back words from coming out of her mouth. “Now, even?”

“I mean…” Saki managed to stutter out, suddenly feeling an overbearing feeling that she couldn’t place, “...do you really want to?”

Kokona clutched Saki’s arm tighter, but it was a gentle motion. “No, it’ll probably be cold later anyway,” she said in a voice that didn’t sound like Kokona. When Saki looked at her, she wondered if she'd even find her friend there.

They walked for a while, quiet, slow. It was difficult to know what to say all of a sudden, and Saki felt that, in the gentlest way possible, she was drowning. It took ages for her to find words.

“Kokona, I’m sorry,” she finally blurted as they neared her neighborhood. They were almost strolling at this point, by how slow they were.

Kokona looked at her a hint inquisitively. “Sorry for what?”

“For being difficult,” Saki sighed.

Kokona narrowed her eyes. “ _Difficult,_ ” she echoed in a scrutinizing tone, almost as though she thought “difficult” was a person and not a word.

Saki swallowed, trying to find the right words. “I’ve been causing trouble. For you. For people. I’m sorry about it. I really am.”

“ _Me? People?_ ” Kokona seemed stuck on the first part of what Saki said.

Saki shot Kokona an incredulous look. “You _have_ to know what I’m talking about.”

“I can’t say I do.” Kokona paused, then continued, “You’re not a burden to anyone, Saki.”

Saki scoffed. “I never said _that._ ”

“It was implied.” Kokona shrugged. “And you’re only the _good_ kind of trouble.”

This made Saki laugh, and she felt Kokona lose some of the earlier tension beside her. “I’m good trouble?” Saki prodded.

“Always,” Kokona crooned.

Saki didn’t believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap—jk there's like a million more chapters.
> 
> (I gave god permission to kill me if this chapter got to 6k so I'm waiting on the sniper)
> 
> Truly, this fic is a testament to how far I'll go for a fic. I included _Otohiko Meichi_ of all people in this. What I do for a story.
> 
> I _WILL_ characterize all the uncharacterized characters.
> 
> Also please bear in mind that I'm an American and don't know everything or anything, really. And sometimes I don't proofread?
> 
> Also just so some of you know, a lot of these characters (yes, even Saki and Kokona. Arguably especially them) will say things I don't agree with or express views I don't personally share. I think that's a thing I have to say.
> 
> Thank you so much if you got this far! The next chapters will provide some more context for Saki and Kokona's relationship, as well as Saki's suspension. Who knows? We might even uncover a mystery.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention this is a vent? This is a vent.
> 
> I know I said I'd clear more things up in the second chapter, but you're probably going to get more questions then answers today. But it is just the beginning, after all! *accidentally longs your fic*
> 
> Anyway, happy reading, and I hope to see you on the other side :)

Saki could still remember—likely would never forget—the first time Kokona told her about her father’s debt. Being young, she’d described it as a door facing her back, where things vanished into the darkness she couldn’t see. The elusive reason that each time Saki visited Kokona’s home they’d find the disappearance of a trampoline, a dollhouse, a TV, a couch. Saki never told Kokona that she could see the girl she’d met being pulled away by the monster they so dreaded existed in there. Kokona feared losing her father, and Saki feared losing the one true friend she had left.

This was all back in their middle school days—their own darkness—now only in Saki’s gentle memories. The ones that she pulled at all the time in the effort to turn them over, redo them, _undo_ them. Saki existed in them as a person she never _ever_ wanted to be again.

They’d both been at that age where most things remained shrouded in great shadows, like money and time and love. Saki never really knew what was supposed to happen when things disappeared into darkness—She only knew that sometimes they did. Temporarily, even, like pigtails and friendship bracelets and, if Saki’s hopes now held any truth, money.

It’d been Sunday last week, not even May yet, and Kokona was sleeping over when Saki told her of her plan.

Kokona had a kind of incredulous shine in her eyes as she leaned over on Saki’s couch that night. “But don’t you think it’s at all...well, a little _lewd?_ ”

Saki wrinkled her nose. “ _Lewd?_ It’s only lewd if you’re not tasteful about it.” She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible—something she was fairly practiced in—although she didn’t exactly know what being tasteful was supposed to mean when it came to...well, selling underwear. But it couldn’t be _that_ hard to figure out. It had to be a case of...what was it? End justifies the means? It was something like that, but this felt like it might very well be crossing a line.

Kokona lifted her head from the throw pillow she’d been pressing her face into and looked at Saki, who now noted how the girl’s twin drills were in dire disarray. “Don’t tell me you’re _justifying_ this.”

Saki usually didn’t mind the way Kokona always seemed to read her thoughts ahead of time, but it was a little frustrating right now. “Get out of my head. Of course it’s lewd. But I’ll justify all I want.”

“Terrible thing to justify,” Kokona breathed. She looked incredibly tired. Maybe too tired for this conversation, Saki considered.

So instead Saki flashed a coy smile Kokona’s way, like she could make it out to be some dark secret between the two of them. “Look, I have it all planned out. It’s not like this just came out of the blue.”

Kokona didn’t appear to be buying Saki’s lack of concern. “ _Tell me_ what made your mind go here.”

Saki shifted. “Because it’s easy. It’s...discreet.” She let out a huff of air. “They pay better. Creeps always do.”

Kokona’s gaze drifted somewhere else. “What did you mean when you said that you ‘have it all planned out’? What have you been doing?”

It wasn’t quite so easy to say now (though Saki hadn’t predicted it would be anyway). She pursed her lips and looked over to the coffee table, then leaned over to snatch up her phone from where it’d been lying. She could tell Kokona was watching all this intently, but made no comment. She was about to speak when Kokona cut her off: “I get it, Saki. You just...you don’t have to say anything else.”

“You’re basically guilt-tripping me here, huh?” Saki laughed, but held onto the phone.

“I _will. Unabashedly,_ ” Kokona retorted.

“You know…” Saki paused before she continued, “...I’m not asking anything of you. Just telling you.”

“Of course. Why _are_ you telling me?” Kokona’s voice got softer.

“Isn’t _that_ obvious?” Saki scoffed, warmly. “You deserve to know. Otherwise I wouldn’t really be helping you.”

“Then can you listen to me, too?” Kokona moved slightly closer, and her voice sounded a bit thicker now. “Please, don’t be stupid?” She cut off Saki before she could interject, “Because it _is_ stupid.”

“Stupid or not, it’s not your business.” Saki could feel herself prickling in response.

Kokona raised an eyebrow skeptically “I thought it _was_ my business. I thought that’s what this _all_ was.”

“Whatever. I’m dropping this.”

“Oh, _you’re kidding me!_ ” Kokona finally exclaimed, unbridled agony tipping over in her tone. “Saki, you’re still my best friend _without_ tripping over yourself trying to get in trouble for me.”

“But I’m _not_ getting in trouble! I won’t get caught.”

“It’s not _about_ getting caught. _Saki._ ” Kokona looked at Saki, and for a long moment neither of them blinked or averted the gaze. The look Kokona was giving Saki became gentle. “Don’t do that to yourself. Not for me.”

_But I still would. In a second._ Saki instead bit back the words, out of fear they weren’t the ones Kokona wanted, or needed, to hear. She put the phone back on the table, fiddled with her hands. “I…”

Kokona shook her head, but Saki continued. “I’ll take a second job. My...my parents take my paychecks, but I’ll figure out a way to...keep these.”

“You’re barely holding onto the one you have at the corner store,” Kokona sighed. “There’s some alternative. I know it.”

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that, too.” _It’s how I got here._

Saki looked at Kokona, watched as her eyes narrowed in speculation. It was quiet, and then Kokona buried her face in her hands and let out a big exhale. “I feel responsible for this, Saki. Please, _please_ don’t try to fix things. You know it will only get worse.”

Saki was dumbfounded for a moment. It was a strangely out of character thing for Kokona to say. That was scary in itself, but in some twisted, ironic way, Saki felt like she had to fix _this, too._

“Okay.”

Kokona froze, then lifted her face a little to look at Saki, almost like she couldn’t believe it. “Hm?”

“I won’t do it,” Saki murmured, then with some more thought she added on, “...I’m sorry.”

Kokona looked at Saki for what felt like a long while. She looked at her like she was taking in her face for the first time, reabsorbing all the features. It was unorthodox, but Saki let her.

Before Saki let either herself or Kokona say anything else, she leaned in and put her arms around Kokona, pulling her into a hug. Kokona seemed to freeze up slightly, but quickly relaxed, and Saki didn’t realize she was smiling at the juxtaposition.

Saki heard Kokona murmur a soft _“Thank you,”_ in a way that made it sound like it was difficult for her to say.

“Yeah, yeah, you love me,'' Saki only said in reply, and worried for a moment that it was too callous a remark, only to feel a wave of relief upon hearing Kokona quietly chuckle and return the hug. Her arms around Saki felt easy, like nothing about the two of them had ever been difficult or hurt at all. Saki held on tighter, smiled ‘til it hurt, because she knew that like this there would be no difficult decisions. She’d simply do anything at all for Kokona.

. . .

Saki sat engrossed in her phone on the counter in the cooking club. It was uncharacteristically quiet in the kitchen there, the entire place being empty, save for Saki herself and Ajia, who was busy cleaning the oven. Ajia had quickly made it a ritual of hers when she joined the high school cooking club to take the responsibility every Tuesday, though Saki had never tagged along before like she was now. Ajia had expressed earlier in the year that she didn’t take kindly to Saki’s habit of sitting upon the counters, but never went so far as to force her down. _“A teacher will see you doing that, you’ll get in trouble,”_ was usually her go-to mild version of a reprimand.

As the minutes ticked by that lunch period, Saki started to think that perhaps by being there she was disturbing Ajia’s usual rhythm. The only other first-year in the cooking club aside from Saki wasn’t usually as irritable as she seemed now.

“What are you even doing here, Saki?” Ajia said just a little too loudly from where she was, kneeling beneath the stovetop.

“Watching you look like the old witch from Hansel and Gretel in that oven.”

Ajia pulled her head out of the oven to cast a look over at Saki. “Care to join me?”

“You don’t even let me clean the stovetop.”

“No,” Ajia agreed, “I don’t.”

“Because you always say I do it wrong.”

Ajia leaned back into the oven, like she was losing investment in this conversation. “Impeccable judgement from you, Mayuzumi.”

“Then, by all means, I’ll remain right where I am.” Saki turned back to her phone screen.

Only seconds passed by before Ajia spoke up again. “Aren’t you usually outside for lunch? What’s different today?”

“It’s _terrible_ outside, that’s what it is.”

“I thought you told me _Kokona_ was waiting out there for you in all that terror.” Ajia repositioned herself to stare at Saki once more, who was yet to respond. “Are you going to leave her out there?”

Saki shrugged and scoffed. “She can wait.”

Ajia tutted at this, leaning further into the oven to reach the back of it with the rag. Then, softly, almost too softly to hear, “I don’t understand you lately, Saki.”

Saki brought her thumb up to her mouth absently. “Hm.”

“You’re missing, you’re late…” She trailed off, then continued, “Are you avoiding her?”

“ _No,_ not at all,” Saki defended. She generally tried not to make a habit of avoiding people. That tended to get messy. “I guess it’s a feeling.”

Ajia hummed slightly. “And not weather-related, I’m guessing?”

“Maybe marginally weather-related,” Saki sighed. “Flipping the switch to my mood.”

“You’re being vague, Saki.”

“I know I am. Look—” Saki searched for the words for a moment, “—Two Sundays ago, right? She and I were talking, and...then Wednesday happened. I’m not at school for two and a half days.” She felt herself trailing off. “Monday is like nothing ever happened, but also...not?”

Ajia had closed the oven now, and looked sincere, though Saki knew the girl didn’t understand. Ajia herself most likely knew this, too.

Saki pursed her lips. “I’m just not feeling great.”

“So you don’t want to see her?” Ajia asked it mellowly.

“It’s not that. I’m just tired. I feel like I’ve been putting on a show lately, for her especially and…” Saki chuckled. “...man, that is _tiring._ ”

Ajia stood up, but she didn’t move to put away the rag. “You could eat with _us,_ you know.”

Saki found herself considering it for a bit, but she was quickly dismissing it, shaking her head. “I think I just needed to say it out loud. Besides, I always have lunch with her when we can't hang out after school.”” After some thought, she added on, “Thank you, Ajia.”

Ajia nodded. “Any time, Saki.” She moved to the other side of the room and stowed away the cloth she’d been using to clean. “If you’ll excuse me, the others are probably expecting me now.”

“Of course,” Saki chirped in response. “Feelings are...weird. Have a good one.”

Right after Ajia left, Saki gathered her belongings and headed out the door, hoping to make it to the rooftop in time to meet Kokona without worrying her too much. For some reason, Saki felt the beginnings of a smile as she took the first steps in the direction of the stairwell.

It’d be the last she’d remember, and then it became a memory she couldn’t see.

. . .

Perhaps Saki wasn’t alive. Perhaps she was dead.

It’d begun as only an inkling of a thought that repeated as she tried out each of her senses, until they grew in volume like a mass, a knot of maggot-like swarms in the only place she could still feel. The place where they were digging in to begin the infestation.

_Hell._ The hovering, secondary thought, with no place in Saki’s head—and yet it was a fine encompassment. _Hell. Hell. Hell._

She couldn’t tell exactly what she was doing with her own body anymore. Her legs might have been kicking, her mouth opening and closing, like she was breathing, which, again, perhaps she wasn’t. Saki wrestled with the feeling that perhaps her eyes were open—which was to say she still couldn’t see.

And it went on for a second longer. A second is long enough to try to squirm, enough to realize the restraint, enough to calculate the weight of your body in relation to the ground. That produces an amazing sensation if the ground is something you can’t feel.

Then with the passing of that second, Saki could suddenly feel _everything_ in frightening detail. Gravity might have flipped and the ground that had been beneath her was crushing her. Dry, gritty, concrete ground, pressing her up into heavy air.

And then Saki opened her eyes.

For real this time, it seemed. Saki blinked the upward view into clarity. She recognized it as the school building from the unconventional angle. It took a moment longer for the recognition to fully kick in, and she could feel one arm underneath her head, the other lying heavy over her middle. She couldn’t move her legs—be it because they were tired or at awkward angles or whatever other reason—but she could sense them there. It was everything required to form the semblance of a whole person. Heavy and flat against the ground, but there.

Saki’s eyes were still trained on the wall of the school building, whose towering figure seemed to be growing, its height drifting ever further away, and it gave off the impression that she was falling. She shifted her gaze over to the side, saw a vast bright blue sky, and then, to the side of that, orange. Striking—red, even, dark in shadow and almost luminescent everywhere else. Shining orange-red hair.

She had a voice Saki didn’t know, but which she knew she recognized. “Open your eyes?”

The mystery girl made it sound like a request, but Saki didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure she could.

But the girl didn’t show any signs of receptiveness to this anyway, only continued: “You can’t keep them closed forever...all the way down there.” She beckoned towards Saki’s position on the ground. Her fiery hair swayed vaguely back and forth above Saki, in two long pigtails. “It wasn’t a long fall. Not at all. You practically floated down.” Then she bent down and placed a hand on Saki’s arm—the one that was still firmly over her middle—and seemed to try to lift it, but Saki resisted, like should she remove it from its place, all her insides would come tumbling out.

The girl pulled her hand away and Saki remained still as she spoke. “I don’t know why you did it. The landing is hard.” She appeared to look up. “But I suppose the sky _does_ look magnificent from here.”

Then the girl stood up, and she suddenly felt far away again. “It’s not a big deal.” Maybe the sun was just too bright, but Saki couldn’t see the girl’s face anymore. “Next time, fall from higher. Fall longer.”

Saki’s gaze twitched, or she blinked—anything that didn’t mean she’d opened her eyes _again_ —and the girl was gone. And Saki’s ears perked to a scream.

It was shrill, feminine, far away but _loud,_ and it was the thing to make Saki jerk upright before her vision tunneled and she hit the ground again, because gravity wasn’t going to cut her any slack today. She realized her head felt like it was stuck between the state of being upright and down on the ground, and Saki thought she might crush her skull between her hands like a soda can by the time something _touched_ her.

It was like something snapped into place, and suddenly Saki was _sane_ again, albeit in a jittery kind of way. Of course, describing the feeling as returning sanity would imply some kind of momentary lapse into _insanity._ Saki couldn’t say she knew what it felt like to be insane. She looked up at this student who had her hand placed lightly on Saki’s shoulder, and Saki could see her clearly and hear her speaking just fine. But all the information felt residual. She looked at this girl’s face and the black hair loosely framing it, and nothing about it mattered to Saki. Which perturbed her—she usually found every person important.

Saki was still looking at the girl, and the girl might have been looking at her, too. And very tentatively, it seemed, the stranger let the first clear words escape: “Are you okay?”

It was hard to know at this point. Saki felt her gaze drifting upwards, like maybe the other girl with the orange hair would still be there, but she of course wasn’t. Strangely enough, even the sky was gray now, like even the blue was a trick of the light. The air felt thicker. Looking back at the new stranger, Saki realized that the girl had followed Saki’s gaze upwards, somewhere towards the top of the school building.

Saki finally found it in herself to speak. “...Yeah. Yes, I’m okay.”

Before she could stop herself, she added on: “Did you scream?”

The girl stared at her with wide gray eyes which for some reason were not processing as eyes in Saki’s mind. It was like her brain still couldn’t piece together information at a proper rate. Then the girl blinked, interrupting Saki’s thoughts, and she spoke in return. “No. I did not.”

“You...didn’t scream?” Saki croaked out.

The girl shook her head, _no._

And then she started talking again in that way that felt muddled together, like when Saki had just woken up, only this time she could piece together the words and sentences. _“Can you stand?”_ and _“I can go fetch the nurse.” “If you want.”_ It felt like a million sounds, and Saki was barely catching each one on time. So she just went back to staring at the girl.

And the girl stared back in return, then stood up and walked over to where the door was, standing just in front of it like she was just about to go back in. She looked at Saki like she was slowly beginning to understand, which Saki couldn’t imagine she really was, and then spoke with relative clarity: “It’s funny. When I first saw you like that, I thought you’d jumped.” 

The girl looked back up at the school building, the place where she’d looked earlier. “This is where the other girl did it. I wonder if you’re copying her?” And Saki wasn’t given any chance to respond before the girl had slipped through the door, disappearing out of sight.

Initially, Saki waited. Minutes had gone by, an abnormal silence permeating the entire time, before Saki realized the girl likely hadn’t gone to retrieve the nurse—in fact, considering the time of day and the lack of students about, class might have even already started. The student who’d found Saki might have been running late herself. Of course, this did little to shake the feeling that perhaps the strange girl just hadn’t cared, or worse, like the girl from earlier, hadn’t existed at all. And none of these thoughts did anything to answer why Saki had been lying unconscious on the ground, when as far as her memories were concerned she couldn’t remember being anywhere near the area last she recalled.

After some experimentation to prove that she could indeed stand up and walk without crashing back onto the ground unconscious, Saki made it to the nurse’s office through a dream-like sequence that felt like it too might have never even happened at all. Only she simply stood there and, after some deliberation, decided not to go in, reasoning that there wasn’t anything the nurse could _do._

_It’d also be weird for her to have to see me two days in a row,_ she found herself thinking as she carefully made her way up the stairwell, hoping not to alert anyone as she did so. _It’s like I have an aura for sick people._ Sick people being her and...she couldn’t remember the boy’s name from yesterday.

_Otohiko Meichi. That’s what it was._ Not that it’d do her much good to remember now.

It seemed Saki was getting her energy back, because she wasn’t as tired as she’d thought she’d be by the time she reached the top of the stairs. Saki was seconds away from pushing the door open when she recognized the aroma of what could only be rain. Lighter than the storm that’d occurred earlier in the week, but the drops sounded large as they hit the roof. Saki didn’t mind rain ( _much_ unlike Kokona), but she figured she didn’t feel like going outside again anyway. Instead she sat where the stairs ended, looking at nothing in particular. Maybe she’d wait for the bell to ring, give her another window of time to get back to class. It was almost too much to think about right now, though. So she just didn’t think.

The rain behind her got louder and louder, until it filled her ears like a choir of muddled voices, sounds she couldn’t process nor understand.

. . .

Saki slid the tray of cherry cups into the preheated school oven and closed it a little harder than normal. She leaned against the counter in the school’s kitchen, wringing her hands together and staring off into nothing. Ms. Hana had given her the basic cookie-cutter lecture earlier that she gave to all students who turned up late to class, but otherwise the day went by almost like nothing had happened at all, and Saki had managed to make it all the way to the end-of-day cooking club meetup. Then again, Kokona had shot Saki a look of gentle concern as she’d arrived late to class, with no explanation for having missed lunch. The rain felt much quieter in the classroom. The dizziness hadn’t completely subsided. But most nagging of all, Saki found, was that she’d connected a face to a name.

Osana Najimi hadn’t been a huge presence in Saki’s life—which made perfectly good sense considering they’d been in different years, had different extracurriculars, and were parts of different cliques. So Saki couldn’t remember anything about the girl—except for three things. First, that she’d had flaming orange hair. And second, that she’d been friends with another girl at the school, a student named Raibaru Fumetsu. And, strangely enough, Saki had met Raibaru once already.

[] [] []

_It was after school, sometime during cleaning time when Saki was leaving the classroom and mindlessly meandering through the halls before she had to go to the cooking club. Since she was new to this school, it was sort of an attempt to acquaint herself with the areas she didn’t have access to at other times. She turned corners and peered into supply closets. Not that there was much of anything she needed to see in particular, just that she found it to be a good opportunity to get used to the layout of the new school. She scaled the staircase to the second floor, set on finding the library next. That was when she heard the voice._

_“Osana misses you.”_

_Saki didn’t know many of the second- and third-years at Akademi, aside from the ones in the cooking club. She did, however, recognize Raibaru Fumetsu. Only after a little while, though—Raibaru, unlike every other time Saki had seen the notorious ex-club leader, was alone, slouched dejectedly against the wall with her phone to her ear. Saki might not have paid any mind to it, but what she said had stopped her in her tracks._

_Saki hesitated first, and considered turning around, not one to listen in on other people’s conversations usually. Only the name she’d heard struck her as different, and Saki’s curiosity got the best of her as she parked herself a good distance away in front of the light music club room, pretending to busy herself on her phone while she kept her ears perked for Raibaru’s voice._

_“She was always so blunt. Not that you noticed…” Raibaru tilted her head to the side. She looked tired, like she was on the verge of falling asleep. “Call me back. See you.”_

_Saki didn’t hear anything for a while after that, but stayed looking down at her phone anyway. After she was sure she wouldn’t be conspicuous, she looked up to see Raibaru standing directly in front of her._

_“Eavesdropping? Don’t you think that’s a little rude?” Saki’s throat went dry. Aside from the mystery that was how Raibaru had made it all the way over to where Saki was without making any noise, any hint of tiredness was now gone from the girl. Instead of a despondent second-year girl, this was the student who’d taken the school by force in her first year of high school as leader of the martial arts club._

_“I—um—” Saki started in apology, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” Jesus, why was she freezing up like this?_

_Raibaru was completely unfazed. “You’re the cooking club girl?”_

_Saki stared. “The cooking club girl…?”_

_“I knew it!” Raibaru smiled and pointed at Saki like she’d just gotten the winning lottery number. The sudden change in demeanor was frightening by itself. “She loved you.”_

_“Who?”_

_Raibaru gave Saki an intense look that made her feel like she was being evaluated. “You were listening. You know the girl I’m talking about.”_

_It didn’t clear things up for Saki, though. “Sorry...I still don’t know what it is you’re trying to tell me.”_

_“Huh.” Raibaru shrugged. “I would have thought she’d have talked to you at some point, considering she was such a big fan of your food.” Saki tried to trace her memory as Raibaru talked. “She spoke of you like a guardian angel. She liked sweets.”_

_Everything Raibaru said, she said so matter-of-factly. Like there was no other way to say it. Saki tried shaking some focus back into herself and met Raibaru’s eyes with what she hoped was a similar degree of intensity. “She liked the rice candy.”_

_“She liked it all.” Raibaru smiled, seeming to warm up a little—which was relieving, but did nothing to dilute her energy. “Rice candy was the only one she could make.”_

_“You were close?”_

_“The closest.”_

[] [] []

The third thing Saki knew about Osana Najimi, of course, was that she’d committed suicide two weeks ago.

[] [] []

_Raibaru shifted her weight onto her other leg casually and fiddled with one of her golden pigtails, all while not letting her eyes leave Saki. “You’re not going to ask who I was on the phone with?”_

_“Uh...I…” Even like this, Raibaru was..._ scary. _“It didn’t sound like any of my business.”_

_Raibaru persisted. “Really? Is that why you decided to listen in on me?”_

_Saki tried to choke out a reply, but nothing came out._

_“Since you seem so curious, here,” Raibaru held out her phone to Saki, “have a look for yourself.”_

_“No…” Saki uttered out, “no, I really should be going.”_

_Raibaru stepped over to Saki’s side and swung an arm over her shoulders while holding the phone out between the two of them. “Freezing up? Here, I’ll show you.”_

_Saki felt Raibaru’s tight grip around her shoulders and knew she wouldn’t be getting away. She’d known Raibaru would be strong, but it still came as a surprise to feel firsthand how muscular she was. Saki reluctantly watched as Raibaru opened her call history, revealing several outgoing calls at the top._ Taro Yamada.

_Raibaru pulled the phone back down, leaving Saki staring into space as the unfamiliar name echoed in her head. “Happy?” She let go of Saki and stepped away. The word held a strange kind of underlying malice._

_Saki didn’t get an opportunity to respond because Raibaru was already walking away. It would be the only time the ex-club leader would ever talk to her._

[] [] []

“Saki…could you please move? I need to open the cupboard.”

Saki moved out of the way to let Seiyo by and resorted to the other side of the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Ajia looking at her worriedly, but brushed it off.

There was something about that memory with Raibaru that felt relevant. Saki had seen, perhaps even _spoken with_ Osana Najimi, yet it was in that moment that she’d felt closer than ever to what the girl had been like when she was alive. But then there was the...dream, or vision, or whatever it’d been, and just thinking about that made everything feel much messier, much more disturbing...

Saki felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up to see Ajia. “The cherry cups should be done.”

“Oh, okay.” Saki turned to the oven and opened it slightly to see that, sure enough, the cherry filling looked to be bubbling in the cookie cup. Berries never took all that long to heat up. She slipped on a mitt and slid the muffin tin off the rack in the oven. Thankfully, it seemed Ajia had already put out a stand for Saki to set the tin down on.

“Both hands, Saki,” Ajia commented from somewhere else in the room.

“I’ve never dropped a tin before. I’ll be fine.”

Ajia grumbled but said nothing, and Saki placed the tin down with no issue.

_Taro Yamada_...an idea occurred to Saki.

“Hey, Seiyo, you’re a second-year.”

Seiyo looked at Saki and nodded. “That’s right.”

“Do you happen to know a guy named Taro Yamada?”

_“You mean the third-year Taro Yamada?”_

Saki looked over her shoulder to see Shoku was talking from the other side of the counter. She narrowed her eyes. “Third-year?”

Shoku grinned. “Yeah, he’s in my class. I don’t know all that much about him, though.”

Saki turned around fully to face Shoku. “Why’s that?”

“Uh, well…” Shoku looked a little awkward. “He’s sort of always in his own thing. I don’t think he even has a club. At some point I’m pretty sure I tried asking him to join the cooking club, but he refused.”

“Oh.”

“He’s probably just busy,” Seiyo interjected. “A lot of the third-years are.”

Saki took a moment to think. “And he’s friends with Raibaru?”

Shoku looked a little surprised. “Uh, I guess?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, if he said so. I don’t know anything about his social life.”

_“I wonder if they’re still on good terms...”_ Saki said, mostly just to herself at this point.

“I don’t know?” Shoku coughed awkwardly. “You’re asking a lot of questions. Do you have a crush on him or something?”

Saki found herself retracting a little, upon realizing she was basically spilling all of her thoughts to everyone in the club. Seiyo seemed to be snickering at Shoku’s comment, and normally Saki would have laughed or scoffed, too, but she couldn’t find in herself to do any of that. So instead she moved away from the counter and picked up one of the cherry cups, biting into it and wincing a little at the hot berry filling.

“Saki, we’re not supposed to eat those.” Shoku frowned, looking a tad genuinely concerned.

Seiyo nudged Shoku in the side as he walked by. “Give it up, Shoku. What the heck, if I had a metabolism like hers I’d be snacking too.”

Saki rolled her eyes. “Has it crossed your mind that I might actually just be a good cook?”

“Never.”

Shoku shook his head. “Cut it out, you two.” Though he didn’t appear angry at all.

“Well…” Saki started, glancing between the club members, “...we did make these together. So I suppose I can spare you all some credit.”

“The magic of teamwork,” interjected Kenko, who’d been quiet the whole time.

“That’s a lot of credit for some cherry cups, Saki,” Ajia noted from across the kitchen.

And Saki let herself laugh, because why shouldn’t she? _I might be dying or going crazy or something, but at least here I can feel normal._ And it was true. The cooking club, in her relatively short time being part of it, was her normalcy. Should it ever not be...well, Saki didn’t know what she’d do.

. . .

The walk home was rainy, dark. Somehow even darker, it seemed, without Kokona to accompany her. Saki was sure Kokona’s dad had his reasons for needing his only daughter for whatever business Kokona had been talking about, but it did nothing to amend the fact that Saki’s already unorthodox day was thrown even further off its usual rhythm. Worst of all, by the time Saki made it home, her father was still at work and her mother was holed up in her bedroom (which Saki knew was off-limits). Saki was left alone with her thoughts. Thoughts which, for all she knew, she couldn’t even trust anymore.

Her room felt empty, which it wasn’t—It was characteristically messy, and certainly compact enough that it should feel full and tight, lacking the room for more than one person, _or just maybe two._ Saki noted the way that the chair at her desk was turned away from the wall and towards the bed, one of the few things in the room not covered in loose paper, books, clothes...usually, that would be Kokona’s spot. The bed was unmade, but Kokona never seemed to mind it, and the two of them would each take one of the blankets and wrap themselves in them on colder days.

Saki groaned as she fell face-first onto her mattress, feeling herself bounce lamely. It wasn’t that she couldn’t survive a single day without her best friend, but today of all days...well, Saki could really use a friend. Kokona just happened to be a good candidate who _wasn’t there._

The bed felt soft, just as much as it felt _terrifying_ to be lying on it. Saki could sense the ominous threat floating overhead, _“You’ll fall asleep. And once that happens, you won’t be able to open your eyes.”_ She’d be trapped staring at an open blue sky, hearing the voice of a girl who was now dead, or maybe—like that girl had herself threatened—Saki would fall to the hard ground again, only this time from much, much greater heights.

Saki shot up to the sound of the doorbell ringing. Before she could put much thought as to who it could be or why, she was making her way briskly down the hall, if only just to get out of her room. She only just started to consider how she was still in her school uniform (which was now quite disheveled—not very presentable) when the doorbell rang again, twice this time. Saki was quick to get to the door, opening it to the sound of the downpour.

Kokona was _soaking wet_ where she stood just outside the entryway. Saki found herself opening the door further out of habit to let her friend in, to which Kokona smiled and took off her shoes as she stepped inside.

Saki was aware she should greet her, ask her why she was there, but she said nothing, instead running to the bathroom to fetch a towel, which Kokona accepted gratefully. Saki watched as Kokona began to dry herself off, and realized that, unlike Saki, she was dressed quite nicely in casual clothes, though the thin white sweater she was wearing was soaking through and her jeans clearly hadn’t been so lucky as to avoid the rain, either.

Kokona let out a comfortable sigh and spoke without looking at Saki. “I should have told you I’d be here. I lost my umbrella, the rain wasn’t lightening up…”

Saki took the towel from Kokona when she was done, and Kokona’s smile was back again, unfaltering as their eyes met, but Saki didn’t ignore the concern edging her words. “My dad let me go early, so…I hope I’m not being too much trouble.” Something scared, something sad barely underlying. “I just felt like you needed me.”

Saki didn’t stop to ask how Kokona knew that or what her dad had needed her for, or even why she was soaking wet without an umbrella—only nodded along, like it was the most interesting thing in the world, and maybe it was for Saki, the cold sense of relief ringing through her at the appearance of Kokona. And with a gentle hum of acknowledgement, Saki took Kokona’s hand, and let herself be led back to her room, where just perhaps she would feel the missing presence of one less person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as it turns out, this chapter is actually _longer_ than the first chapter, by some twist in fate. Whoops. At least you didn't have to sit through a second 2,000-word prologue this time. The things I do to you.
> 
> But jeez, that's a lot of unanswered questions in this chapter, huh? Why did Saki go against her word? What happened to make Saki mysteriously wake up on the ground? What's the deal with Osana? I'm your English teacher, your answers will be graded.
> 
> Of course, thanks to everyone who read this far! I'm having plenty of fun, so I hope you're enjoying yourselves too. One day I may just post...chapter three. Well, until then!


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